


Creature Comforts

by zephfair



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Fluff, Humor, Laura is alive, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Self-indulgent fluff, Werewolves, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves, angst-free Stiles, i just want everyone to be happy, so very much fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:16:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8502169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephfair/pseuds/zephfair
Summary: While Stiles and Scott continue their search for evidence of a Bigfoot in the Hale forest, Stiles keeps meeting a mysterious wolf that seems to be helping him.“Are you going to eat me?” Stiles could feel a babble coming on. He did it when he was nervous and there was more than a little bit of anxiety bubbling when a couldn't-be-an-actual-fricking-wolf was sitting calmly outside his tent. “Please don't eat me. I haven't been to the gym in months, regardless of what I tell Scott, so you'd be getting very little good meat off me. I'm mostly stringy. And gristle. Lots of bone.”***Now with Part 2: The story of Stiles' summer internship or how Derek is slowly losing his mind thanks to Stiles and his stupid pretty mouth. And hands. And everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always a sucker for Derek-is-a-helpful-wolf stories, and in the spirit of no-shame November, I am filling my own need for fluff (that I started four years ago yikes).
> 
> Inspired originally by a marathon of Animal Planet’s Finding Bigfoot which—never mind what you think of Bigfoot—is kind of hypnotizing. Either that or I just lost the will to change the channel after a while. Teen Wolf, for me, peaked at Season 2 so I blithely ignore most of the canon.

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to camp here?” Scott asked, frowning at Stiles who was already enthusiastically shaking out a tent.

“Yes, of course I am,” Stiles retorted. “Have I ever let us get caught trespassing on private property?” 

While Scott pondered, Allison spoke up, “I think the relevant part of that statement is _let us get caught_.”

Stiles made finger guns and winked at her while Scott rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Stiles, have we really been trespassing a lot?”

“Define a lot.”

“I hate to break your record,” came a woman's voice from behind the trio, “but I feel the need to point out that you _are_ on private property without permission.”

Stiles, Scott and Allison whirled around to face the woman who had approached them unnoticed through the trees. Stiles opened his mouth to start his usual, patented sweet talk when he saw a man step out from behind another tree, and his mouth went dry. Tall, dark and gorgeous didn't begin to cover it.

“Hi, I'm really sorry, _we're_ really sorry,” Allison said, stepping up to the woman. “Do you happen to know how we can contact the property owners? Apparently our location scout,” she shot a look at Stiles, “has been shirking his responsibilities. Again.”

The woman smiled. “Luckily for you, the property owners happened to be out hiking nearby. I'm Laura Hale, and this is my brother Derek.”

Derek didn't say a word, but Stiles couldn't tear his eyes off him. Derek seemed to know that Stiles was staring because he kept his posture rigid and face turned away, looking only at Scott and Allison.

“I'm Allison, this is Scott and Stiles,” Allison gestured, “and we are very sorry to be here without your permission.”

“What are you doing out here?” Laura asked. “Most of the time we find campers near the line with the state game preserve, but you're pretty near the center of our property right now.”

Scott and Allison turned to Stiles who finally tore his gaze from the side of Derek's face. He rubbed the back of his head. “Well, this is approximately where Finstock was hiking, right along the creek, when he saw it.”

Both Derek and Laura stiffened, a motion Stiles didn't miss since his eyes had wandered back to Derek.

“It?” Derek spoke for the first time, and Stiles stumbled over himself to keep him talking.

“It. A Sasquatch. A Bigfoot. One of the indigenous humanoid creatures of the area.”

“A Bigfoot.” Derek's voice was flat, and he met Stiles' eyes for the first time. It took a second for Stiles to tune in to what he was actually saying. “You believe in Bigfoot.”

“I do actually yes. And Yeti. And the Loch Ness Monster. Chupacabras. And lots of other unexplained and unstudied phenomena that people claim don't exist just because we haven't found the definitive smoking gun proof,” Stiles said, used to defending his unorthodox beliefs from mockers and naysayers.

“So you believe in stuff like … werewolves?” Laura shot a look at Derek as she asked.

Stiles made a _pffft_ noise and waved his hand. “I believe in cryptozoology, not fairy tales.”

He was shocked when Laura burst out laughing while Derek made a sound almost like a growl.

“So you're here to look for Bigfoot?” Laura said when she got her laughter under control.

“Hopefully get one on video,” Stiles enthused. “Or at least find some physical evidence—hair, nesting materials, scat.” He turned to Derek and explained, “That's poo.”

“I know what scat is,” Derek informed him stiffly. “But you are _not_ going to camp on our land and wander around, freezing yourselves to death, getting hurt, scaring off the wildlife while you make fools of—”

“Hey, we're not here to scare anything,” Stiles started then Scott broke in with “We're experienced campers. We do this every chance we get.”

“You do?” Laura asked.

“Yeah,” Scott nodded quickly. “Stiles and I started our investigations back in high school. We're juniors in college now, and our blog has turned into a great place for people to write about their Bigfoot encounters. When we hear of one close enough to us, and we can raise enough money, we spend a few days camping and investigating. We film everything so it's totally professional, and we normally stay on public lands so no one is liable,” Scott assured her.

Allison had stepped over to Laura and opened YouTube on her phone. She began playing one of their most popular videos. Laura watched for a few moments then snorted, clapping a hand over her mouth quickly, and looking up at Allison who nodded. “They're mostly all like that,” Allison said. “They're a pretty big hit among the female fans.”

“I bet,” Laura seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek. “Can you email me that account name? I'm sure Derek would love to see that kind of research too.”

“Sure,” Allison got her information as Scott turned to Laura again.

“We have a long weekend off from classes, so we can spend three nights here. We would really, _really_ appreciate it if you would let us stay,” he begged.

“Go stay on the state preserve,” Derek said bluntly.

“No way, man. First of all, hunting season opens next weekend, and I don't want to keep running into hunters trying to track or set up illegal treestands. They're really assholes. And second, this is the area where one of our regulars said he saw a Sasquatch, right there along the creek.” Stiles gestured broadly toward the creek that was down a gentle slope from where they were setting up camp.

“I don't care,” Derek informed him.

“What did he see?” Laura asked Stiles as she checked her phone.

“Classic Sasquatch behavior. A really tall, bipedal, hairy form leaving the tree line, going down toward the water. Made a loud sound when it spotted Finstock and took off in the opposite direction.”

Laura exchanged a look with Derek. “Almost sounds like Uncle Peter out and about,” she said and Derek snorted.

Stiles looked at both of them in turn. “Joke all you want,” he said coldly, “but this is prime Sasquatch territory, exactly the kind of terrain they love, and since your huge chunk of land is the only private property for miles, they could be hidden here, out of sight, without anyone from the state knowing any better. Have you seen anything mysterious? Noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

The Hales exchanged looks again. “Define ordinary,” Laura said, and Stiles' temper flared.

“Look, we're just trying to get to the bottom of this, to find a creature who was here long before any of us. And we keep building on their lands and pushing them to the brink of extinction—”

Derek's voice was loud. “And what are you going to do if you ever find one with your crazy little hobby? Humans are always out to hunt and destroy what they don't understand. You'll kill it and study it—” 

“I've spent my life looking for these guys because we need to preserve them, make sure they have the land and resources they need—”

“And then you'll… what? Make a nature preserve and charge admission? Capture them and put them in a zoo?”

“You know what? Fuck you.” Stiles was grabbed by Scott who held him back from a charge toward Derek who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, thoroughly unimpressed by the outburst.

“Hey, man, cool it,” Scott told Stiles then turned to Derek. “You are totally wrong, dude. Stiles is majoring in nature conservation, and this crazy little hobby is what pushed us both to pursue our careers. I'm studying to be a veterinarian because I love all animals and want to help them. So I don't know why you're being such a dick, but you don't know the whole story.”

Derek still didn't look impressed, but Stiles had gotten a hold of himself and peeled Scott's restraining arms off him. “I'm fine, really. I shouldn't have...but it really pisses me off when anyone accuses of us of wanting to hurt or capture a Bigfoot. That's not our goal, not now or ever. We just want to make contact, get some proof, so we can show the rest of the world that there is more under heaven and earth than that which meets the eye.”

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” Derek corrected the quote. Stiles would have been impressed if he hadn't been so angry.

Laura pocketed her phone and laid a hand on Derek's arm. He flinched. “I think it's okay,” she said, raising her chin and continuing to speak as Derek opened his mouth to protest. “I think we can trust them. We can let them stay here, did you say three nights?” She glanced at Scott who nodded. “But did you bring enough warm clothes? We're going to end up with an early season snow.”

“There's no snow in the forecast at all,” Allison said.

Laura tapped the side of her nose. “I'd bet my sense of smell against a meteorologist any day. Just stay warm.”

“And no bonfires. And make sure you dig your latrine at least 200 yards from the creek. And take out every single thing you've brought in,” Derek listed.

“Sure, like we've never been backcountry camping before,” Stiles rolled his eyes so hard he thought he saw his brain for a second. “If we need anything else, my Jeep is right off the lane about a mile and a half back.”

“And move your vehicle so it doesn't block our road,” Derek continued with a look that could have been a grin if it hadn't involved so many teeth.

“It's fine,” Laura interrupted. “If you do need anything, you came through town on the way here so you know where it is. Or if there's an emergency, our house is about a half mile over that ridge. Just stay safe and be careful of the wildlife.”

“What wildlife? Bears? Mountain lions?” Scott asked.

“All kinds of big, hairy creatures looking for young nubile flesh,” she said, still looking at Derek who went a little pink. “Good luck.”

She nudged Derek firmly as she turned, and he spared one last glare for each of them in turn before he followed her away. Stiles waited until they disappeared back into the trees.

“Oh. My. _God._ Have you ever met a bigger asshole? He is more than a douche, he is the bag, the box, all the wrappings it came in!” Stiles yelled.

“You know I hate that insult,” Allison told him as she went back to organizing their camping gear.

“I know, I'm sorry, just what an incredible asshat! Could he have been any more rude? Or condescending? He's obviously only gotten this far in life because of his good looks,” Stiles continued to fume as he yanked furiously at his tent.

“Really? I hadn't noticed,” Allison stifled a laugh.

“Oh yeah, it's definitely a good thing that he's pretty because he certainly didn't inherit the personality in that family.”

“So do you think we'll find something this time?” Scott sounded hopeful.

“We will,” Stiles promised. “Even if it's just to spite Mr. I-Have-Sexy-Looks-I-Don't-Need-to-be-Nice. But wasn't it kind of weird how they reacted? Hmm, maybe they know more than they're telling.”

“You think maybe they've seen things over the years?” Scott piped up. “Found some evidence?”

“Or hidden it,” Stiles said drily. “Whatever happens this weekend, I really hope we run into something wild. That'll show him.”

*************

The night turned cold after the sun went down, but Stiles' hopes kept him warm. They bundled up and sat around the camping stove, sharing the cocoa Allison had made with a generous helping of booze Scott had brought.

After setting up camp, Stiles and Scott had combed the creek bed for a few hundred yards in either direction, looking for footprints or signs of movement through the woody undergrowth. They didn't find anything, but Stiles pointed out that the water level in the creek was very low and the exposed rocky bed wouldn't hold prints like mud or sand.

Once they had eaten and warmed up, they tried some loud calls based on the sounds Bigfoot enthusiasts swore they had heard. Allison diligently filmed Stiles knocking on trees then waiting and failing to get any response and Scott tipping back his head and whooping into the night. Stiles leaned forward to shush him, swearing he'd heard a reply, then tipped right off his stool, landing on his face. Allison got it all on video, including Scott laughing so hard that he fell backward off his folding chair, then she took the bottle away from Stiles.

“All right. I think that's all the investigating we're going to get done tonight. Let's go to bed, boys.”

“Are you finally inviting me to be part of a torrid threesome? You don't know how long I've been waiting for this day,” Stiles slurred.

“No,” Allison said flatly, lending a hand to Scott to help him scramble to his feet. “We are going to our tent and you to yours. It isn't like you to get drunk while we're investigating, Stiles.”

“It's just that— that damn douchey Derek. Heh, alliteration, nice,” Stiles grinned then went right into a frown. “He just made me so mad. I am going to find a Bigfoot just to show him and wipe that look off his stubbly, manly, too good-looking face.”

“Okay, Stiles. Nighty-night,” Allison said, gently pushing him toward his tent before making sure their stove was off and everything was ready for the night.

“I'll show him!” Stiles shouted into the darkness as he found his tent and, after a brief battle with the zipper, crawled inside.

He slept the sleep of the drunk and weary until sometime in the early hours when his bladder forced him awake. The need was too urgent and he didn't have a bottle in the tent, so he blearily crawled outside to find a tree to water.

That need taken care of, and the bitter air clearing his head, Stiles took a moment to look up into the night sky. The moon was almost full but its light didn't dim all the stars twinkling brightly against the dark backdrop of the midnight sky. He took a deep breath of cold air and let it out slowly then turned to go back to the tent.

There, leaving the shelter of the trees and creeping toward their tents in the tiny clearing, was a huge four-legged animal. Stiles didn't even realize he sucked in another loud breath until the animal stopped walking, one paw raised, like it was caught in the act and froze.

“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered quietly. The animal flicked an ear and slowly turned its head toward Stiles, becoming a little more visible in the moonlight.

“Holy shit,” he repeated, a little louder. “You are a wolf. No, you're not a wolf. You can't be a wolf. There haven't been wolves in California in decades.”

The wolf-like creature made a chuffing sound and sat down, right there, a few yards from the tents.

“So you're not a wolf,” Stiles informed it. “Or if you _are_ a wolf, then you aren't real. This is all, like, a very vivid dream.”

The not-at-all-a-wolf barked lowly as if to say, “Sure I'm not real.”

“Are you going to eat me?” Stiles could feel a babble coming on. He did it when he was nervous and there was more than a little bit of anxiety bubbling when a couldn't-be-an-actual-fucking-wolf was sitting calmly outside his tent. “Please don't eat me. I haven't been to the gym in months, regardless of what I tell Scott, so you'd be getting very little good meat off me. It's most stringy. And gristle. Lots of bone.”

The large canid-type creature that was definitely not a dog—which was as far as Stiles was willing to go—tilted its head. When puppies did that, it was absolutely adorable. When this massive head did it, well, it was still adorable but also a bit terrifying that it was actually listening and thinking and calculating on whether Stiles would make good eating.

“I'm not even wearing my favorite hoodie, so you can't confuse me with Little Red, and I'm sure you are not a big bad,” he informed the animal.

The wolf—Stiles' terrified mind was running out of excuses on how to explain what that very wolf-like wolfy animal could otherwise be—continued to stare directly at Stiles. He was trying to remember if he was supposed to play dead or make a lot of noise to scare off wolves because he'd never bothered to study it because _there were no fucking wolves in California_ when he could have sworn the wolf's eyes glowed blue for a second. 

Then it brought up a back leg to scratch nonchalantly at its neck, as if to say, humans were nothing to worry about, I'm just going to scratch this itch and give you fleas. Maybe that was its evil plan—it would kill Stiles slowly by encouraging a flea to bite him, infect him with the bubonic plague and then the wolf would laugh as he succumbed to the inevitable... _oh look, I'm babbling internally. Or is it gibbering if it's not out loud?_ Stiles' mind whirled.

The wolf stopped scratching and sat bolt upright, still staring. Stiles gulped. “I am willing to accept, for the time being and bearing any new evidence to the contrary, that you might be, in fact, a wolf. And if I do admit that, will you let me go? Er, I mean, can I go back to my tent safely? Because I don't know if you can climb trees, but I know I sure as hell won't win a foot race against you, and I'm way too drunk to be trying to climb a tree. I'd probably just fall on you and kill us both, and I sure don't want anything to hurt you. You're gorgeous.”

The wolf didn't move for a long moment. Then it slowly stood up and moved away from Stiles and his tent. Stiles breathed a sigh of relief and edged toward the tent carefully, trying very hard not to make any quick movements or present a threat.

The couldn't-have-been-a-wolf was standing at the first tree, peering around the trunk until Stiles got to the tent. As he shuffled in backwards, he waved weakly at the creature and called out, “Thank you for not eating me or my friends. Really appreciate it. You're great. Come back when I'm awake and sober.”

He pulled up the zip so quickly the tent material got caught but he abandoned it to dig into his backpack for a camera. His professors would never believe there was a wolf out here, but if he could get a picture...he found the camera, wrenched the zipper free and poked his head out, but the dark form in the trees was gone.

************

“I know what I saw!” Stiles said for the fifth time. “I am the last person who wants to admit it, but that thing was definitely a wolf. A wolf!”

“But Stiles—” Scott tried again, but Allison laid a hand on his arm.

“Let it go for now, Scott. We'll get the ties to fix the trail camera and put it up again tonight. If it was a wolf and not a coyote or really, really big dog as you keep saying, we'll know.”

“Okay,” Scott said, willing to let the argument drop, for which Stiles was eternally grateful to Allison.

Stiles had woken up, cold and more than a bit hungover to find Scott and Allison bright, cheerful and totally disbelieving of his experience just a few hours before. While they'd had breakfast, Allison went to check the trail cam but found it had been knocked off the tree, its supports ripped away. That meant they would need to take a trip into town, wasting valuable hours that Stiles could be out tracking, although he wasn't sure if he wanted to search more for Bigfoot or that mystery wolf-thing.

The last few miles driving into town left Stiles with a new worry. Something under the Jeep's hood was knocking way more loudly than usual. He really hoped it was nothing vital.

He pulled into the parking lot of a small department store, the town too tiny to have a shopping mall or Wal-Mart. Allison and Scott went inside while Stiles popped open his hood then stuck his head inside, wishing he knew nearly as much about engines as he did the common sounds of the North American Sasquatch.

“Hey there Stiles!” Of course he would bang his head on the underside of the hood when he jerked at the call.

There coming across the parking lot were Laura and Derek Hale, all glowery and frowny and broody eyebrows. Well, Stiles thought, to be fair, all that was Derek—Laura was smiling beautifully.

“Hey there Hales,” he said when he realized he hadn't answered her.

“How was your night? Did you find anything interesting yet?” Laura asked.

“Interesting? Well, have you ever seen any wolves on your property? Or signs that there are very, very large dogs roaming free?”

“Wolves, eh?” Stiles noticed that Laura didn't look shocked or scared at all. Instead she was narrowing her eyes at Derek who was carefully avoiding looking at her. “What makes you think there are wolves?”

“I talked to one,” Stiles started then realized how that sounded. “Well, I mean, I saw one when I went outside to, you know, and I turned around and there was a wolf walking around our camp. Only there can't be wolves. So I don't know what it was. But it was huge. And really beautiful,” Stiles said honestly.

“I surely haven't seen any dogs around,” Laura said. “But that doesn't sound like normal wolf behavior. That seems almost… tame.”

“I know, right? It freaked me out! It was like it could understand me,” Stiles thought it was safe to confide. “But it was really extraordinary. So calm. Majestic. Amazing.”

Laura made a sound that Stiles wasn't sure was supposed to be a laugh or cough. Stiles felt his cheeks get a little warm at his exuberant description of a wild animal, but he didn't know why Derek's face was pink too.

“Wolves are incredible creatures,” Stiles started, but Laura cut him off.

“Oh Stiles, you don't have to be embarrassed, I'm sorry,” Laura said with a big smile at him. “All of us Hales are nature lovers. It's just unusual to find someone as passionate as ourselves.” Her smile grew more sly. “But after watching your videos, I should have known that you would be understanding.”

Stiles rubbed his hands over his face and head with a sigh. “Allison thinks that we don't know about our online reputation, and Scotty honestly doesn't, but I figured it out a long time ago.”

“It's just alarming how often you two guys get into situations where you have to take off your shirts. Or you get drenched. And have to take off your shirts _and_ your pants.”

Stiles had always known that Allison edited the videos in a particular way after the first couple got more hits when she included Scott falling into a lake. She had put it in slo-mo as he stripped off his shirt, the water trickling down his chest and washboard abs. Their viewers suddenly included more appreciative women. And they got a lot more thumbs-ups.

“There's also a huge following for what they call my 'accident proneness',” Stiles said with air quotes. He'd been treed by a mama bear, swarmed by yellow jackets, sprayed by a skunk—all with Allison and Scott safely out of range but able and willing to film. There was also at least one fan edit that was nothing but a montage of clips of Stiles just falling—stumbling and flailing into a river, rolling down a hill into a pond, stepping off a snow drift that was actually a ditch and ending up buried in snow up to his neck. It was a thing.

“You take too many risks. It's dangerous,” Derek informed him.

“Yeah, well, the viewers love it, and if it helps us raise money for our investigations...”

“You're going to get hurt.”

“Hey, thanks for the vote of confidence,” Stiles made sure the sarcasm dripped off his words. 

Derek just huffed angrily and growled, “At least I have caution to go along with my _pretty face_ or I wouldn't have anything at all.”

Stiles froze when he remembered what he'd said about Derek the day before. But surely they had been too far away to hear his rant?

“Well, we don't want to see you get hurt this weekend, Stiles. Please take care of yourself. And don't forget extra fuel. It's definitely going to snow by tonight,” Laura said.

“Thanks,” Stiles didn't care if he sounded insincere as he went back to banging on the engine manifold. Something about Derek Hale just pissed him off.

*****************

The Jeep got them back within walking distance of their campsite, and Stiles threw himself into their investigation with newfound vigor. After Allison fixed the trail cam back to a tree, she followed him and Scott through the woods as he searched for tracks or any signs of Bigfoot or wolves.

They walked along several deer trails, even spooked a small herd of white tails, but Stiles was getting more and more frustrated because they weren't finding any evidence. Even when Scott was nearly run over by a fawn then by its irate mother, Stiles didn't stop to laugh. Allison got it all on video but Stiles kept on hiking.

It wasn't until the sun was dipping low behind the bare tree limbs that Scott called out. “Stiles, we've got to get back to camp.”

“Just a little further. I can see a break in the undergrowth down there where the creek bends.”

“Stiles, we've already got a long walk back and it's going to be dark.”

“Give me five minutes.” Stiles sprinted off, reaching the place he'd seen, but even as he poked through it, he could tell it hadn't been made by a creature as big as Bigfoot or even the wolf. He swore and took a few deep calming breaths before racing back to join Scott and Allison.

They managed to find their way back to the camp thanks to Allison's excellent sense of direction and foresight of double-checking the GPS coordinates. It was Stiles' turn to cook, and although he was sure his bitterness flavored the bland pasta, they were all starving so they eat heartily and in near-silence. 

“I'm beat,” Scott yawned as he tried to clean off the plates.

“Me too,” Allison admitted. “Let's make it an early night.”

“No! We can't! I'm going to take out the night vision and go along the creek again. I need you guys here, listening if my calls get any responses,” Stiles argued.

Scott and Allison exchanged looks then Allison looked up at the sky. “Oh wow, Laura was right—it _is_ snowing!” 

It didn't make Stiles any happier that the temperature was dropping as the snow started falling more steadily.

“Come on, you guys, give me an hour. No more than an hour and a half.”

“An hour,” Scott said and Allison went to get the walkie-talkies while Stiles outfitted his second-hand night vision goggles.

It was quiet as he walked along the creek, the only sound the gentle trickle of water as it washed over the smooth stones. The water had cut through the land over the years winding its way toward the far-off ocean. In some places the land was nearly even with the creek bed, but in others, the creek had flowed through and cut its way deeply, leaving near cliffs along the side. Stiles was glad he'd chosen their camp along a portion of creek that had a short, rolling slope down to the water. Some of the walls he was walking alongside now were very steep.

He didn't see anything but stopped every five minutes or so to radio back to camp, warning them he was going to make noise.

Then he did his best Bigfoot calls and shouts and quieted, waiting to see if either he or Allison and Scott heard a response. It was probably an hour right to the second when Scott called over the radio that Stiles needed to come back because they were going to bed, having heard nothing all night.

Stiles kicked a rock and sent it into the creek with a plop. He was cold, and the snow was coming down steadily and starting to lay on some surfaces.

He radioed to Scott that he was returning then decided to climb up and walk back on the upper edge of the creek. Maybe he would be able to spot something from the steeper hill than he could see from the creek itself.

He scrambled up the bank and started walking. It was a harder hike, animals not choosing the difficult and steeper path for obvious reasons. Stiles continued to sweep his head back and forth, checking for heat signatures that would indicate wildlife.

Scott radioed again when Stiles estimated he was about two-thirds of the way back to camp. Stiles assured him he was fine and almost there. Scott said they were turning in.

Of course, that was when Stiles found out that night vision goggles were really good at seeing heat In the distance but weren't so good for seeing up close. 

His boots got tangled in something he hadn't noticed, a root or vine, and he over-balanced. Exhausted, weary and cold, he didn't catch himself and went over the edge of the cliff. It wasn't completely vertical, Stiles was relieved for a second to find, but he couldn't stop his slide down the scree. He flung out his arms, tried to dig in his heels, but there was no traction and he ended up in the creek.

The icy water shocked the breath out of him, but he lay there in the shallows without moving for a moment. Head still there? Check. All arms and legs attached? Check. Movement of all four limbs? Check. Ability to sit up? Ouch but check.

The cold water swirled around him as he rolled to his hands and knees then his heart skipped a beat when he heard a low growl.

He only moved his head to look up at the top of the bank where the wolf stood. 

“Oh hey, buddy,” he said weakly, wondering how much energy he could muster to run across the creek and try to get away. “Don't come down here, all right? You could probably use a bath but not a freezing one like this, and I really don't want to … okay, you're just climbing down and … well, you're certainly a lot more graceful about it than I was. Not that that's saying much.”

Stiles didn't move as the wolf paused at the edge of the creek, and he hoped that the icy water would deter the animal, but that was not to be. The wolf waded out to him, and Stiles was too afraid to move until the wolf pushed its nose into his ribs.

Stiles squeaked, and the wolf grunted. Stiles thought it might not be the most intelligent thing to sound like a dog toy so when the wolf pushed again, Stiles slowly straightened without another sound. The wolf stood back until Stiles was kneeling in the creek.

He had to rest before trying to struggle to his feet. When his arm windmilled and hit a warm, hairy body, he almost went back down in the water. But the wolf got under his arm and nudged his hip until Stiles got safely to his feet.

Then the wolf nosed him until he started walking, slogging out of the water and onto the creek bed. Stiles wanted to lie down for just a minute, just to catch his breath and let some of the adrenaline fade, but he knew that staying out in the snow while he was drenched was deadly. 

The wolf seemed to understand too, because it stayed close beside his waist, bumping him as he stumbled down the creek bed until he found a more gentle path up the hill. It even let Stiles lean on it as he climbed up the hill, panting. The wolf wasn't even breathing heavily.

Stiles couldn't quite remember the way back to camp, but the wolf walked alongside, keeping its big shoulder tight against Stiles' hip, body-checking him when he veered off the path. Stiles wasn't about to question the unexpected mercy of the universe—but he figured it was about time something went his way when he was out in nature.

He tried to shout when he saw the tents, but he couldn't quite catch his breath. The wolf huffed and pushed him. “I'm going,” Stiles tried to say, but his teeth were chattering so hard it wasn't clear. He looked down to see the wolf raise its face toward him and huff a little bark.

Stiles tottered toward the tent alone and had just enough adrenaline left to make him jump when an unearthly loud howl sounded behind him. He kept stumbling one foot in front of the other until Scott grabbed him.

“Stiles, what the hell...you're soaking wet!”

“Oh my god, Stiles, what happened? What was that howl?”

Stiles couldn't explain, just let Allison and Scott work on him, getting him quickly out of the wet clothes and dried off then into dry clothes and into their tent, under all the blankets the group had brought. As his shivering subsided enough for him to talk, he croaked out, “This wasn't how I imagined our threesome.”

“Me either,” Allison said, then cuddled closer to his chest as Scott chuckled from his other side.

“Can you tell us what happened?” Scott asked as he pulled Stiles' back more firmly against his chest.

“Not now. Morning.”

“Okay,” Scott agreed and Stiles swore he could feel lips brush his temple and other lips against his cheek as he drifted off to sleep. 

He woke up once, warm and toasty and ready to throw off at least a couple blankets, but instead lay there with his arm flung over Scott and being spooned by Allison. Just before he closed his eyes again, he thought he heard a couple heavy breaths outside the tent, and he smiled at the thought of his wolf watching over all of them.

************

The unexpected trip into the creek had muted some of Stiles' enthusiasm, and the re-telling wore him out more. He loved his friends for not preaching “I told you so,” and adored them even more for offering to take point on the investigation that day. Allison swore when she found the trail cam had fallen off the tree again without recording any pictures, but then Scott saw some large tracks that weren't obscured by the snow pointing back the way Stiles had come. 

Stiles was very stiff and sore, and he was happy enough to let the others hike out to follow the tracks while he stayed behind. Scott had promised to call on the walkie if they found anything important, and Allison had two cameras, just in case.

Stiles was preparing an update for the blog and making notes about the wolf's aberrant behavior when someone cleared their throat loudly behind him. His flail sent the laptop airborne, but he struggled to catch it in time before it hit the ground.

“Jeez, someone ought to get you and your sister little bells so you stop sneaking up on people,” he grumbled at Derek Hale. Derek just stood there, laden with a backpack and an armful of provisions. “What's that?” Stiles asked, suddenly suspicious. “Are you planning to join us camping?”

“No,” Derek said shortly. “We didn't know if you were prepared for the snow.”

“Well, you only told us about it twice,” Stiles said. “We're fine.”

“You're sure that you're all right?”

“Yes,” Stiles repeated. “I'm fine.”

Derek continued to stare at him as the silence dragged on enough to make Stiles more uncomfortable. 

“Here are some things we thought you could use.” And with that Derek dumped the pile at Stiles' feet and shucked off the backpack.

“Uh, thanks?” Stiles used his toe to poke the sleeping bags and blankets. 

“There are extra clothes in the pack, and some hot coffee and soup Laura just made. And some cake.”

“Really? Wow, thanks,” Stiles hoped he sounded more sincere. Hot coffee and hot soup sounded wonderful right then.

“And there's Tylenol and some body rub too, in case you have any injuries. I mean, in case anyone is hurt.”

“Thanks. That will actually come in handy.”

Stiles looked up at Derek for the first time without judging. He was very good-looking, yeah, but he actually came off kind of...shy? Maybe not so great with people? Lacking some social graces? Stiles could relate to that.

“Do you, uh, want to sit down and have some coffee and soup?” Stiles offered, but Derek shook his head.

“No, that's for you. I have to get going.”

“Pressing business to attend to in the middle of the woods?”

Derek ducked his head. “Actually, I was going to take a look at your Jeep. I heard the engine knocking the other day and thought maybe I could help you out.”

“Would you? That would be awesome!” Stiles moved to get up but couldn't master a jump to his feet like usual. Derek looked at him with concern, but Stiles waved it off. “I'm fine. Just stiff.”

“What happened?”

“Went out for a walk, fell down a cliff, took a brief swim in the creek, got saved by a giant wolf,” Stiles kept his voice blasé. 

“Are you okay now?” Derek's jaw was tight.

“You seem to be taking this extremely well, even the unbelievable part where I said that I was saved by a giant freaking wolf.”

“Wolves are very misunderstood but very intelligent animals,” Derek said.

Stiles nodded and started telling Derek just what the wolf had done for him. Derek listened without saying a word, without arguing like Scott had done, or humoring him that it'd been a hallucination like anyone else might.

“I just don't see why I would have hallucinated a giant fricking wolf! If anything, I would have dreamed about being saved by Bigfoot—hoisted into his strong, hairy arms then carried off to his nest to be nursed and cared for… are you actually laughing?”

Derek was, indeed, laughing, although trying to hide it behind his hand. The expression transformed him, and Stiles could only stare at how handsome he was. Then it was Derek's turn to look embarrassed. “Sorry. It's just that I've never heard anyone have fantasies about a Sasquatch before.”

“I _don't_ have fantasies! I'm just saying that if I _did_ , it wouldn't be about a wolf! Although, to be fair, the wolf is gorgeous. It's so ginormous, and I haven't seen it in the light, but it looks like it's all black and shiny fur. It felt really soft,” he remembered suddenly. “And who else would be brave enough to follow me over that cliff and into the water? Then practically drag me back to camp. Oh shit,” he was struck by a sudden horror. “Can wolves get frostbite? Can it get pneumonia from getting wet then walking through the snow? Oh my god, what if it's sick right now and needs help?!”

“Stiles, relax. It's fine,” Stiles came out of his panic to feel Derek's strong hand on his shoulder. When Derek realized he noticed, he let go.

“How do you know? That poor wolf is a hero.”

“Wolves are well-protected from the snow and cold. He'll be fine. You're the vulnerable one since you're all bone and gristle.”

“I just really, really hope it's okay,” Stiles worried some more. “I couldn't handle it if that wolf got sick or injured from trying to help me. Maybe Scott will find some trace of it and then we can, I don't know, we can't leave food—”

“Stiles, it's okay. The wolf is all right,” Derek hurried on when Stiles would have argued. “Nature has a way of taking care of its own. I'm sure the wolf would be more worried about you. Eat your soup and stay warm. Keep your strength up.”

“Okay, fine, I'll just never forgive myself if—” 

“Eat and drink,” Derek commanded, reaching out to grasp Stiles' shoulder again and give him a tiny shake. It was enough to nudge Stiles out of his anxiety again.

“Thanks. And thanks for looking at the Jeep. You're a lifesaver.” Stiles nodded fervently.

“Better have some talent to back up the looks,” Derek said blandly and Stiles winced.

“Shit, you did hear what I said the other day. I am so, so sorry. I had no right, I was just pissed, and this trip meant so much to me because—” Stiles' voice trailed off but when he looked up at Derek, Derek didn't seem angry. “Well, this might be one of our last opportunities to do an investigation, me and Scott. He's saving up all his money because he's going to propose to Allison at Christmas, and he's not the favorite of her family so he wants to be, like, the perfect son-in-law. He's carrying a full courseload and working as much as possible, and that's only going to get worse next year as he applies to vet schools. I had this built up in my mind as maybe our last weekend of real Bigfoot investigating before we have to...” Stiles shrugged, “well, I guess we gotta grow up sometime.”

“There's nothing wrong with what you're doing,” Derek said, making Stiles stare in shock. “Sure, Scott might have more and different responsibilities soon, but it doesn't seem like you're ever going to lose him. Life is constantly changing, but not necessarily for the worse.”

“Dude, that is deeply philosophical,” Stiles admired and it was Derek's turn to shrug. “And hey, maybe I won't find my real proof of Bigfoot this trip, but I definitely found something else cool.” Derek's cheeks bloomed pink in the chill but his face fell when Stiles went on, “That wolf is awesome. If I could take back some pictures of it, it would really get my professors excited.”

“Most wildlife is camera shy,” Derek said and took a step away from him. “Your friends are coming back so you can share the food if you want. I'll get to work on your Jeep.”

“Thanks again!” Stiles called after him as he loped into the woods. It was only a second later that Scott and Allison returned, holding hands, and ready to show Stiles the pictures they'd taken of some huge paw prints. Their talk and excitement warmed Stiles almost as much as the soup.

*************

It began snowing again right as they were finishing dinner. Stiles had joined them on an afternoon hike, feeling warm and a little looser after the hot Hale food and a generous application of Bengay. Although they hadn't seen any more tracks of the wolf and no evidence at all for the Bigfoot, Stiles had a terrific time. He was walking through beautiful woods with his best friends, and he determined to make the most of the time they had remaining together.

“I'm not going to try taking the night vision stuff out again tonight. One fall and midnight swim in icy water is enough for me,” Stiles informed them.

“That's probably wise,” Allison agreed. 

Instead, Scott made a tiny fire and they took turns roasting marshmallows over the flames and making s'mores.

“We could at least try some calls,” Scott suggested as he finished off his last s'more.

“Go for it,” Stiles gestured. Scott threw back his head and let loose while Allison filmed. Then she and Stiles burst out laughing.

“What?” Scott pretended to be offended. “That was a perfect Sasquatch yell.”

“Dude, you sounded like a cat being strangled. It's gotta be more like this.” Stiles tipped back his head and did a yell that turned into a very loud yodel. As the sound died, Allison and Scott's laughter continued, and Stiles joined them until Scott suddenly threw out an arm and hit him across the chest.

“Stiles, what the hell is that?” Scott whispered, grabbing Allison to his side with his other arm.

Stiles turned around to look behind him, and surely it was a trick of the flames that the eyes staring at him glowed blue for an instant. “Hey, I think it's my new friend. Hey, buddy, is that you?”

“Oh my god, Stiles, that is a wolf!” Scott managed to sound like he was shouting in terror at the decibel level of a whisper.

“I told you so,” it gave Stiles great delight to say. Then he turned back to the wolf. “Hey, dude, you want to join us for some s'mores? No, wait, dogs can't have chocolate, sorry.”

The wolf's flattened ears perked as Stiles continued to talk, but it didn't move closer.

“Maybe all that racket we were making drew it in,” Allison said nervously. “We really need to get over to the tents.”

“I'm telling you, that wolf saved my life. He could have eaten me twice already if he'd wanted to. He just doesn't think I look delicious, do you?” Stiles said in the sing-song voice people use when they're talking to their pets. The wolf's head tilted into that calculating look again. “Did you hear our awesome calls? Did we sound just like your buddy Sasquatch?”

Stiles watched in wonder as the wolf whined then lay down and put its paws alongside its head while its ears flattened tight to its skull. “Oh my god, everyone is a critic,” Stiles ignored Scott pulling at his arm. “I was not that bad!”

The wolf huffed a low bark in disagreement.

“What are you doing?” Scott shout-whispered as he pulled at Stiles again. “We need to get to the tents!”

“No we don't. I'm telling you, that wolf is a hero. And I'm so thankful that he's okay. You all right, buddy? No frostbite on your little paw pads? No pneumonia? No sickies?”

The wolf sat up lazily then stood, spinning in a tight circle then looking back at Stiles and barking.

“I am very happy to see that you are fully operational!” Stiles was truly relieved.

“Stiles, I think we need to take cover. Now,” Allison came over to pull at his other arm.

“I'm telling you, he saved me! Or at least helped me.”

“Oh my god, Stiles, I thought you were exaggerating! He's as big as a freaking horse!” Scott was pulling hard so Stiles took a couple steps toward the tents to prevent a dislocated shoulder.

“Well, you should have believed me. When have I ever lied—well, let's not think about that. I told you about the amazing, incredible, hero wolf that saved me, so it's not my fault that you didn't believe me.”

“We believe you, totally, now let's go.”

“He's not going to hurt us, are you, buddy?” Stiles asked over his shoulder to the wolf who stood in the shadow of the trees watching them. He swore the wolf wagged its fluffy tail once before Scott pushed him into the tent.

“Well, at least we know why we aren't seeing Sasquatch,” Scott said breathlessly once they had all squished into his and Allison's tent.

“Why?”

“Because he's obviously not going to come into a wolf's hunting ground and compete for food,” Scott said. “It would be a real fight between a Bigfoot and a wolf that huge.”

“I don't think he would fight if he didn't have to,” Stiles said.

Scott shook his head while Allison said, “Did either of you get any photos? I was so shocked, I let my camera out there and didn't get any shots.”

They continued to talk until Scott's yawns grew more frequent and Stiles was more than ready to excuse himself. They didn't want him to go out, in case the wolf was still there, but Stiles informed them that he could make it to his own tent without getting killed and eaten.

He did follow their orders to go straight to his tent, but after waiting until he thought they would be asleep, he gathered some things and crept back outside.

The fire had nearly burnt itself out, but he carefully made sure it was extinguished so nothing would flame up again. He quietly carried a blanket and Derek's sleeping bag as he walked toward the top of the little hill that overlooked the creek. There was a fallen tree that hadn't been cleared away, and it would make a passable bench to sit on.

As he strolled toward it, there was no inadvertent sound to betray the wolf, but a definite growl as Stiles stood looking down at the creek.

“I'm not gonna try going down there, big guy. I promise.” Stiles brushed off the small accumulation of snow from the tree trunk then folded the blanket into a seat cushion. He wrapped the sleeping bag around himself and sat down, thankful for the extra layers of protection.

He felt more than heard the wolf slowly walk up behind him as he rummaged through his coat pocket. He bit off a giant bite of the homemade jerky that the Hales had provided and which Stiles had hoarded from Scott and Allison because it was delicious. He chewed that bite then bit off another piece and held it over his shoulder.

“Go on. It's really good,” he told the wolf. He carefully didn't jerk or move when he felt warm breath against his neck as the wolf delicately took the piece of jerky he offered then pull back to eat.

“I'm really, really glad you're okay. I was worried. I couldn't handle it if you'd gotten sick or hurt while you were helping me. Thank you for saving me.”

Stiles was almost expecting an answer, but the wolf only sat down behind his shoulder and shared every other bite of the jerky with him.

The snow was falling softly, everything was quiet—that unnatural quiet that only snowfall can create when every noise is muffled and the whole earth is silent and still—and it was quite possibly the most beautiful thing Stiles had ever seen. He leaned back to look up into the snow, and the warm solid chest at his back propped him up. He felt the snowflakes catching on his eyelashes then melting and opened his mouth to catch fresh snowflakes. 

The giant body behind him snorted but when Stiles turned to say something, the wolf opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out, first catching some snow, then sneaking a lick of Stiles' cheek. 

Stiles didn't think—something his friends had repeatedly and incessantly warned him about—and slung an arm around the wolf so it leaned against his shoulder. They sat there, the creek a quiet trickle below, the snow muffling the noise of the outside world, until Stiles started to get stiff and feel the cold. 

The wolf seemed to predict his discomfort and got up, shaking himself like a puppy ridding itself of water after a bath but instead shaking off the white snow gathered on his sleek black coat. Stiles returned the favor, not realizing how much had accumulated on his borrowed hat. He shivered and the wolf crowded close then began to herd him toward the tent.

“For a supposed figment of my imagination, you are incredibly helpful,” Stiles informed him. “And you have really pretty eyes.”

The look in them said clearly that the wolf was supremely unimpressed by Stiles' inability to take care of himself while dishing out such ridiculous compliments. Or at least, that's how Stiles interpreted the wolf's expression.

It waited until Stiles bundled into his tent and started pulling out all the blankets and the other sleeping bag Derek had loaned him. He looked at the muzzle poking curiously into the tent and sighed, “Come on in then.”

The wolf scrambled in, filling the small tent with its furry bulk, but it stood as much out of the way as it could until Stiles got himself into the sleeping bag and covered with another couple blankets. Then the wolf lay down against him, its body heat leeching slowly into him through the multiple layers. 

Stiles slept more peacefully than he had in years.  
************

When he woke up, the wolf was gone. Stiles was strangely disappointed in the same way he would feel if a date had sneaked out and disappeared on him after a wild, steamy night together. Then he thought that maybe he needed to rethink his priorities.

He packed up his gear and separated all the Hale things before he heard Allison and Scott stirring. Scott already had a kettle on the stove to boil before Stiles joined him. It felt warmer already that morning, and Stiles figured the dusting of snow would melt before the day was out, and with it, all evidence of his wolf.

He really hated the thought of leaving.

They were just finishing packing up the tents when Laura and Derek came out of the trees.

“Oh hey, you saved me a trip to your house on the way home. Thank you so much for the extra supplies,” Stiles said, picking up the gear to hand to Derek. “They really came in handy. Especially the sleeping bags. And the soup. And that amazing jerky.”

“What jerky?” Scott asked before Allison elbowed him in the ribs.

“You're welcome,” Derek said.

“Derek is a wonderful cook,” Laura told them.

“Wow, you made all that? Well-done, dude,” Stiles said and was amused that Derek looked away.

“So, did you have any luck? Find any evidence about Bigfoot?” Laura asked.

“Nah, we didn't find anything, unfortunately,” Stiles said, keeping his voice steady through his disappointment.

“I'm really sorry to hear that. I understand how important this is to you,” Laura had the grace to sound sincere, which Stiles appreciated, but he was shocked when she continued. 

“You know, Derek and I have been talking and we agree that there are definitely unusual things going on in these woods,” Laura said with a long look at Derek's back. “We thought that if you wanted to come back, maybe when the weather is warmer, and renew your investigation, we'd be happy to have you.”

“Wow, that's… thanks,” Stiles said, glancing at Scott who had tensed. Allison was smiling politely. “I'm just not sure when we'll have time—”

“We all have a lot coming up, and this summer I'll be working full-time and Stiles wants to find an internship and next year will be crazy busy,” Scott babbled, not looking at Allison who was watching him curiously.

“In fact, Scott and I are afraid that we might have to retire our investigative firm. At least until after we graduate. Maybe even after grad school.” It was the first time Stiles had said the words out loud, and it hurt more than he'd expected, even after all the time he'd spent worrying about it.

“What?” Allison asked quietly, trying to catch Scott's eye. “We haven't talked about this. What's going on?”

“It's just… well, maybe the time has come to move on,” Stiles answered for him.

Laura had been watching the exchange with a raised eyebrow. Now she offered, “I'm very sorry to hear that your partnership might be on hold for a while. Honestly, your videos on YouTube are terrific. Funny, sure, fan-service, definitely, but you also really demonstrate your love of nature, and anyone watching will fall in love with it too. Plus, you always teach viewers important lessons, even if it's by showing them what _not_ to do.”

“Jeez, thanks,” Stiles was speechless for once, and Scott looked embarrassed.

Laura went on, “You know the state is always looking for volunteers to help out on the preserve during the summers, Stiles. And if you wanted to apply to volunteer up here, I know where you could get nearby free room and board. It would be an unpaid internship with the state, but there are always things that need done on our land too. I'm sure we could come to some kind of arrangement, and it would be terrific experience for your resume.”

Stiles was overwhelmed and excited until he looked at Derek who was standing nearly with his back to the whole group. Stiles' elation fell. “That is a very, very kind offer, thank you. But I don't think I can accept.”

“You could spend your free time searching for more evidence of Bigfoot,” Laura offered.

Stiles took a deep breath. “As much as that would be awesome, it looks like you're the only one who would be happy about it.”

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked. “Stiles, if you were able to live and work here, you'd be at ground zero. Think of everything you could learn about Bigfoot! And I could come visit you maybe on weekends.”

“ _We_ would come visit you lots,” Allison promised.

Stiles kept looking at Derek, and Laura seemed to understand. “It's your decision, Stiles, of course. But Derek told me that you seem to have made a connection here.” Both Stiles and Derek jerked involuntarily. “I meant with our mysterious wolf.”

“Oh yeah,” Stiles sighed. “I gotta say, that is the most tempting thing you can offer, letting me roam the woods and spend time with him again. That wolf is amazing.”

“Then why don't you think about the offer? You don't need to make a decision until spring,” Derek said quietly. He still wouldn't look up at Stiles, but his words made Stiles' heart beat faster.

“I'll think about it,” Stiles said finally.

Laura smiled brightly. “Wonderful. Now that that's taken care of, Derek dragged me down here to check on you and offer you breakfast. Why don't you come back to the house with us and let him cook his little heart out for you?”

Stiles laughed along with the others but kept watching Derek carefully. His face was definitely reddening, and when he sneaked a quick look over at Stiles and caught him staring, the red intensified. Stiles was in love.

“Thanks, Derek,” Stiles said formally as he followed Allison who was walking toward Laura.

“I'm just glad you survived the weekend,” Derek responded.

“It was an adventure. I wouldn't have made it without my wolf,” Stiles said as Derek fell into step beside him.

“Your wolf? You're going to have to return this summer if you want to make that true.” Stiles tripped over the air as Derek casually reached out and brushed some stray wolf fur off the shoulder of Stiles' coat.

Stiles started laughing, the knot of anxiety and fear of the future that had tied up his chest for so long starting to ease. He hip-checked Scott when they caught up to him and Allison, and they continued to carry all their gear toward the Hale house.

Laura waited behind to look over the campsite one last time, checking that they were taking everything out and leaving the site pristine. It was only she who saw the Sasquatch as it ambled along the creekbed, apparently enjoying the brightening sunlight overhead and the crisp snow underfoot.

She raised a hand to wave, and the Sasquatch waved back. Then she ran to join the impromptu party and wonder exactly how Derek would finally break his news to Stiles. She'd have to make sure to take video of the event for Allison.


	2. Stiles is slowly driving Derek crazy and Laura thinks it's great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is staying with the Hales as he interns at the nearby national park, and it's driving Derek out of his mind. Laura says it's a very short drive. But she does suggest that Derek let his wolf out to play with Stiles, and it eventually changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, first, thank you VERY MUCH to everyone who read the first part of this story and enjoyed it, left kudos or commented. You guys are amazing and gave me so much more encouragement than I ever dreamed of. You're the best! I'm sorry I was overwhelmed and didn't reply to comments individually because, frankly, I was very anxious about my writing and its reception. But you wonderful commenters rocked my world. I've read each comment multiple times, and I truly cherish every one.
> 
> I've been doing a 30-Day AU Challenge, and the second part to this story was always in the back of my mind and heart. This writing challenge gave me the kick in the pants to finally sit down and write it. It's still all fluff with a little dash of drama for a few minutes, but it's definitely still an attempt to be humorous and fluffy. I hope you can enjoy it. Thank you again!

Derek was sure the kid was there to kill him.

Laura looked at him long and hard for a moment then burst out laughing. “Sure, Derek, whatever you have to tell yourself.”

“I’m being serious. I’m positive he’s trying to kill me.”

“As if you were important enough to be assassinated,” she scoffed and reached out lightning quick to ruffle his hair. He hated that, and more importantly, she was well aware of how much it annoyed him.

“Not assassinated. Just … frustrated. To death.”

“Sexually frustrated is more like it,” Laura said in a voice that didn’t even pretend to be a whisper.

Derek ground his teeth some more. He was starting to worry about wearing down his teeth and causing nerve damage. Or TMJ to his jaw. Or high blood pressure from the stress. But he wasn’t going to let Laura know that because she was sure to point out that werewolves couldn’t suffer from any of those health complaints.

Then the cause of his slowly growing nervous breakdown bounced down the stairs as he did every morning and, as he did _every damn morning_ , tried to jump the last three but stumbled on the landing. Still, Stiles thrust his arms into the air in a victory pose until he realized the Hales were staring at him. 

Derek tried very hard not to notice the red blossom into the kid’s cheeks and then creep across his face. He look away, not wanting to follow the blush as it spread down the kid’s neck and from there… Derek told himself that he had absolutely no imagination and was clearly not in any way curious to see how far down it went.

“Hey, there, Hales, good to see you so bright and early.” Stiles was more of a morning person than Derek had imagined. If he’d been born with an imagination. Which he clearly hadn’t been.

“You too, Stiles. Are you settling in okay? Everything going all right?” Laura played the part of the concerned hostess until she glanced at Derek wickedly. “If there’s anything you need or want or even crave, be sure to let Derek know. I’m sure he’ll go out of his way to take care of you.”

Derek was definitely not looking because he could literally smell the heat rolling off the kid all the way across the foyer. Derek snarled a little at Laura, though, before turning to go back to the kitchen.

“Did I do something to piss him off?” he heard Stiles ask Laura very quietly as the kitchen door swung shut behind him.

“Oh no,” again Laura didn’t bother to lower her voice. “Derek’s just worried about his health. He thinks someone is out to get him, and having a stranger in his territory is making him more paranoid than usual.”

“Clearly he has issues,” Stiles said. “Would it be better if I moved out?”

“No, no, it’s good for him to have socialization.” She sighed dramatically. “We really tried with him, we did, but it’s almost like he was raised by wolves.”

Stiles laughed once, loud and sharp, and the spatula Derek had been holding somehow snapped right in his hand. Huh, the silicone must have been defective in that one. He was rummaging in the drawer for another when Stiles’ scent overwhelmed him.

“Ooo, are you making breakfast again? Can I have some?” Stiles was approaching fast when Derek looked up from the drawer.

“Sit down and I’ll bring it to you,” he pointed with the metal replacement he’d found.

“You don’t have to do that,” Stiles looked a little disappointed but he stopped before he came around the island to the stove. “I can get it myself. It’s not like you’re running a B&B here.”

“The deal was room and board. You’re stuck with whatever we eat,” Derek busied himself flipping the French toast.

“I know, but I feel bad that you’re cooking me breakfast and dinner every day. You could at least let me buy groceries, or take a turn, or just shove a box of cereal at me. I’m not high maintenance; I’ll eat pretty much anything you put in front of me.”

Derek grunted and wondered if he should put away a couple of the five syrups he’d placed at the counter where Stiles always sat. Then he was glad he hadn’t when Stiles crowed in delight upon seeing them. Derek finished the first batch of French toast, slapped on some butter, sprinkled a little powdered sugar and turned to offer Stiles the plate, only to see him with three fingers crammed in his mouth.

Derek had to take a deep breath because the picture of Stiles’ lips stuffed full of fingers went right to an uncomfortable place. In his pants. Instead he said, “It looks like you’re the one who was raised by wolves.”

“Sorry,” Stiles was saying as he licked the last finger clean. “I hadn’t tried the raspberry syrup yet and it was a little runnier than I expected.”

“Sit down and eat.”

Stiles lit up and almost glowed at the food Derek placed in front of him. “Oh my god, you are going to make someone such an awesome wife some day. I mean, husband. Or chef. Personal cook? Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make such a sexist and misogynistic joke. That was awful.”

“Shut up,” Derek tried to stop the cavalcade of apologies. He’d learned the only way to stop Stiles when he was on a roll was to tell him straight out. “Just eat.”

“Sorry,” Stiles said again. “You’re just a really good cook and I’m going to gain a hundred pounds this summer.”

Derek turned back to the stove so Stiles couldn’t see his lips twitch into a reluctant smile. “Shut up.”

Once Stiles had left for his internship, the house settled back down, like the vulnerable quiet after a gust of wind that disturbed the fragile balance and blew everything apart.

Laura ate the rest of the French toast while watching Derek clean up the kitchen. She broke the delicate silence by telling him, “You are so over-dramatic Derek. I bet your inner monologues are things of Shakespearean tragic wonder.”

“Shut up.”

“That doesn’t work on me either,” she said with her mouth full.

Derek didn’t know how he was going to make it through the rest of the summer. The calendar said that Stiles had only been there ten days, but it felt like so much longer.

At first Derek had been glad that Laura was serious about offering to help Stiles get an internship in the area. She talked to their mother and explained the entire situation—along with some very embarrassing details about Derek’s role in the adventure, he had no doubt—and their mother had gone along with the idea. With her contacts in the local parks service, it was no trouble to get an offer extended to Stiles.

And of course there was plenty of room at the Hale house for him to stay for a very nominal fee that they’d only agreed to because Stiles insisted.

No, the trouble had started when Stiles actually got there and moved into Derek’s life like a tornado swirling through dried up fields of wheat, sending the kernels flying and leaving nothing but empty stalks and hulls.

Huh, maybe Laura had a point about his inner monologues.

“I think you need to get out more,” Laura was saying. “In your little fur skin.”

Derek looked at her and she explained, “It would help you both if you introduced him to your wolf again. It seemed like you two really hit it off.”

And therein lay the other problem. Derek as a wolf had liked Stiles entirely too much.

“I’ll think about it,” he tried to stall, but Laura laid a hand on his shoulder as she sneaked behind him for more coffee.

“No, because you’ll keep over-thinking it. Change when you hear Stiles coming home, and I’ll be sure to send him outside for something. Once he sees you, you’re on your own.”

Derek knew it would never be as simple as she made it sound. And yet, it nearly was.

He had dinner on warm in the slow cooker and was waiting on the front porch when he heard Stiles’ Jeep begin the haul up their long driveway. He changed and moved into the woods, slinking among the trees so he could keep the house in sight.

Stiles all but flew into the house as soon as he’d parked, and Derek quivered with anticipation. He wasn’t sure what excuse Laura had come up with, but when Stiles bounced back out and headed toward the wood pile, Derek took his chance.

He circled around to a spot in the line of sight from the wood pile then stood between two trees. Stiles was often too preoccupied to be a good observer, and true to form, he went right to the logs. Derek finally chuffed out a short bark to get his attention.

Stiles froze still bent over. He came up hefting a good-sized piece of kindling which Derek approved of for protection. Then he looked right at Derek.

Derek threw all dignity away and wagged his tail. Then he bent his front half down and waggled his rump. When Stiles didn’t move, he bounced back up and let his tongue loll out, doing everything he could to indicate he wanted to play.

“Holy shit,” Stiles said. “Is that you? The same wolfie from last fall? No way.”

Yes way, Derek wanted to say but instead he let out a happy sharp bark and ran in a little circle. Then he looked back at Stiles and went into the trees.

When there was no sound following him, he stopped and went back to edge of the yard. Stiles was still standing stock still. He whined and wriggled again, and Stiles took a cautious step forward.

Of all times for the stupid kid to finally grow a sense of self-preservation, Derek thought. Time to break out the big guns. He whined again then dropped onto the ground and rolled over onto his back, exposing his belly and letting his tongue out in an anxious pant.

“Oh my god. It is you! You remember me!” Stiles was coming closer, slowly, and Derek wriggled in anticipation. “I really want to get close to you, but you have to promise you’re not going to, like, bite my arm off or something. Or kill and eat me. Remember what I told you before—there’s no good meat on me. I still haven’t made it to the gym, and thanks to all the good food here, I’m nothing but a thick layer of blubber.”

Derek knew Stiles’ babbling was nervous, and since he couldn’t do anything else to put Stiles at ease, he sacrificed the little that remained of his dignity. He squirmed around on the ground until he was looking up at Stiles upside down and opened his mouth wide in a doggy grin.

It was a pose that Laura called his derpy dog impression, and while he hated it, it seemed to do the trick with Stiles. Figured.

Stiles rushed forward. “Oh my god, it’s so good to see you! I’m so glad you’re all right!” 

All the humiliation and abasement was worth it to see Stiles’ huge smile as he dropped to his knees and dug his fingers into the fur on Derek’s belly. He couldn’t help it—he lunged up and licked Stiles’ face from jaw to forehead. Stiles sputtered and fell back and Derek licked him again.

Stiles started laughing and tried to push Derek away but he was relentless, bowling him over when Stiles tried to get to his feet.

“You do remember me!” Stiles beamed even though he was covered in leaves and dirt and drool. “I can’t believe you found me! I’ve been thinking of you for months!”

Derek’s ears perked when he heard the front door of the house open and his head swiveled in that direction. Stiles didn’t hear anything but he followed Derek’s gaze to see Laura standing in the doorway watching them with a smile.

“Look! It’s my wolf!” Stiles shouted and waved.

Laura nodded. She didn’t come any closer but called out, “I’m happy to see you two together. Now that he knows you’re here, I’m sure he’ll come visit much more often.”

Stiles turned to Derek and took his face between his hands, smooshing up his cheeks until his fur all but covered his eyes. Derek still had enough pride left to be thankful that no one could take an undignified picture. “Will you? Will you come see me again?”

Derek studied him for a moment until Stiles leaned even closer then he darted his tongue out and licked his nose. Stiles let go of him to wipe at it with “Aurgh, wolf snot up my nose! Man, I love you but I don’t want to snort your snot up my nose.”

Derek’s tail flipped happily all on its own. Stiles finished wiping at his nose and sunk his fingers into his fur again. “Come back real soon, okay?”

Derek stood up, shook off and barked once then trotted into the forest. He didn’t have to look back to know that Stiles was watching him leave.

Once he’d controlled himself and changed back, he found the shorts and T-shirt Laura had thankfully left him by the shed, and walked into the house like nothing happened. Stiles and Laura were eating at the island, Stiles regaling her with his joy of meeting the wolf again.

“I can’t believe he remembered me! He came right to me! And he’s so freaking tame, how did that even happen?”

“Some animals are just a little more domesticated and crave close human interaction more than others,” Laura said, wildly and dangerously inaccurate when it came to typical animal behavior but Derek had to admit it was spot-on about werewolves. “You’ll have to hang out with him and enjoy it. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it too. And maybe stop being such a big whiny baby.”

“Huh? Whiny baby?” Stiles looked lost but Derek got the message loud and clear.

And he had to admit, it was fun putting off his stress for a while and running wild. He met Stiles nearly every afternoon and went for hikes in the woods. It was definitely _not_ “walkies” as Laura called it when Derek came into the house later to catch the end of Stiles’ rapturous re-tellings. 

Derek was merely herding a ridiculously unprepared Stiles away from any potentials dangers and onto safe land. Away from the unique inhabitants of the Hale preserve. And perils that lurked in any wild environment.

Derek wondered if that unpreparedness was partly what drew him to Stiles in the first place. 

Doe-eyed. Derek had read that expression but never thought it was serious until he saw Stiles. Hell, it wasn’t even doe eyes so much as a full-on Bambi impression. And then there was his mouth. The shape of it was interesting and made Derek have Thoughts, but by God, the things that spewed out of that mouth. Derek had never met someone who talked so much about so little. 

Even in his wolf form, sometimes he’d cover his ears or lead Stiles elsewhere when he started talking too much. Especially during the naming ceremony that Derek would never live down. 

Stiles packed snacks and his laptop in a backpack for longer weekend treks. They rested under a cool, leafy tree while Stiles scrolled through notes he’d made.

“I’m just saying, it would be a lot easier if you had a name. I mean, you probably already have a name that your mom-wolf gave you or maybe you earned later on. Like a description of the way the clouds float in the sky or the way the trees blew in the wind on the day you were born. Why is it that fictional wolves always have descriptive names like that instead of Ed or George? I blame Robert Jordan.”

Derek was half-asleep, lulled into drowsiness by Stiles’ babble. 

“But since I don’t speak wolf, and I have no idea what your beautiful metaphysical name is, I think it would be nice to have something to call you. So I put together a list of my favorites and thought you should have the final say. Okay? Okay. So, babe—”

Derek flicked an ear and looked up at him. Stiles backpedaled, “No, not Babe, I was just saying...although it is a good name. Why should pigs keep all the good names? But seriously, what about Thor?”

Derek flicked the ear again and yawned. 

“Is that a no? What about Hulk?” 

Derek lay his muzzle on his forelegs and just stared at him.

Stiles sighed. “Not a Marvel fan. All right, how about Fenrir? Remus?”

Derek continued to look supremely unimpressed as Stiles fired off a list of names.

Stiles consulted the laptop again. “Well, we’re getting to the bottom of the barrel now. What about Moon Moon?” he asked with a flutter of jazz hands.

Even Derek knew that meme. He reached over, grabbed an edge of the computer in his teeth and growled. 

“Holy crap! No! Fido!” Stiles yelped. Derek shook his head a little, pulling the laptop free from Stiles’ fingers. He dove for it. 

“Okay fine, just please don’t hurt my baby. Wonder Wolf?” Derek growled and pulled his lips back so his fangs gleamed. 

“Fine, Wolf, just Wolf. Not Wolfgang, okay, singular, you are Wolf. Happy?”

Derek dropped the computer, four tiny dents the only evidence of his ire besides the “Oooo, so gross, there’s dog drool all over this—wolf, I mean, wolf drool all over, that’s sick, dude.” Derek grinned and Stiles shied back but soon was hanging all over him again.

Stiles’ love of rough-housing with him as a wolf was another of Derek’s many big problems. It threatened to spill over into everyday life when he found his human arms about to wrap around Stiles.

The kid was ridiculous, even though Laura kept pointing out he wasn’t that much younger than Derek. He flailed, his arms and hands in constant motion and why were his hands so … competent looking and large and when he pushed up his shirt sleeves, well, Derek hadn’t known he’d had a hand kink until then. 

The kid—Derek clung to it stubbornly. In his head. Where Laura couldn’t correct him no matter how badly she wanted to—was in constant motion, waving his arms, speaking with his body as much as his words. The constant words. Running his hands through his hair, over his face, fiddling nervously. All that nervous energy.

Derek in human form soon found himself unconsciously imitating it, and Laura had a field day, saying Derek was positively loquacious these days.

Derek found himself rolling his eyes more and snapping witty comebacks without consulting his mouth-to-brain filter until Laura complimented him on his sassiness, saying she liked it.

And his two most uttered words were suddenly “Shut up.” But Derek thought he said it too often (or Stiles had heard it too much) because it literally had zero effect, but he kept on ordering it even as Stiles ignored it. Until the day Derek said flatly “Shut up” and Stiles kept on running, laughing behind him, “Come on Derek, everyone knows that when you say Shut up, you really mean I love you” and Derek almost flung himself into the creek.

Stiles had smelled right somehow ever since they’d met that fall afternoon, and he was smart, smart-assed and funny. Fierce. Quick. Witty and brave or fearless or stupid enough to not realize the danger or immature enough not to care. 

Listening to him as wolf or human showed that he was intelligent and passionate, and Derek hated that he was fascinated by people who were impassioned about things. It didn’t matter if it was an author or a movie or whatever they loved, but talking with people who loved things, really _loved_ them and committed to them, got him going. 

Derek didn’t psychoanalyze himself, but on lonely nights, he wondered if it was because he didn’t care about anything a lot of the time, like he could just steal from their love and passion and enjoy the fire without the burden of the flame.

Plus he kind of loved playing devil’s advocate to get Stiles revved up. It was too much fun.

Plus all that ridiculous fire and energy boded well for passion and energy … elsewhere.

Derek didn’t dwell on that. Too often. Well, only when he was alone. In bed. Or the shower.

Spending most afternoons and weekends with Stiles as a wolf out hiking the preserve wasn’t a problem.

It was the human times that were the problem.

When Derek bluntly disagreed with him, Stiles flailed, sputtered, argued, got into Derek’s face, but when Derek ignored him, he fought harder. When Derek turned and finally broke down and confronted him, Stiles got into his face even more. When he growled, Stiles flinched. 

It was a game Derek should have enjoyed, if he hadn’t known that Stiles believed Derek didn’t like him.

He’d been attracted to Stiles from the moment he laid eyes on him, but he’d wrapped himself in the righteous anger he felt when he’d discovered Stiles’ and his friends’ true motives. Then he’d worried about their safety and followed them like he or Laura did to any other campers. 

But spending those quiet moments alone with Stiles that snowy night, he started to care. And being with him all the time was only making it worse, to Laura’s great amusement. 

Derek spent a lot of days out in the preserve by himself, checking in with the creatures, just to get away from Stiles’ scent. Of course, he made sure he got back in time to make dinner. The only time he let Laura make soup, Stiles had spent the night in the bathroom.

That was the night that Laura approached him as he scrubbed at the stew pot, wondering if he should break out the industrial sander to try and clean it or just declare it a lost cause and throw it away.

“So, when are we going to tell him?” she asked.

“Laura, not now,” he said as he tossed the pot and the ruined steel wool into the trash.

“We got Mom’s permission. If we trust him, she said it would be okay.”

“We’d be crazy to trust a Bigfoot hunter,” Derek stressed the word _hunter_.

“Not a hunter hunter, a searcher,” she corrected. “It’ll blow his mind.” She paused. “Which I’m sure isn’t the only thing you want to blo—” 

“Just stop,” he begged. But of course she didn’t. 

Instead Laura started hinting with all the subtlety of a brick to the head.

Every time the three of them were in a room together, she would ply Stiles with questions. Where did he think a Bigfoot would be, if they existed? Did they have families? What did they eat?

Stiles shared his theories enthusiastically while she nodded understandingly. “So an environment like here would be good?”

“Yeah, it’d be pretty great actually.”

“Well, what do you think about kelpies? Pixies?”

Stiles went off with a jumble of legends and wild tales.

Laura always listened carefully. “So you believe that certain mythological creatures were actually based on fact?” she asked him one evening while they were all in the kitchen watching Derek peel potatoes for the next day.

“Definitely. I mean, sure, they weren’t exactly like we read about now, but I believe most if not all are definitely rooted in fact,” Stiles said.

Laura cleared her throat and asked leadingly, “And werewolves…”

Stiles held up a hand. “No, nope, let’s not conflate reality with a modern fad to entice young girls into believing that buff guys in ripped shirts can be their mates.”

Derek felt his eye twitch. He turned around, potato in one hand, paring knife in the other. “You don’t believe in werewolves?”

“Nope,” Stiles brightly popped the last p. 

Derek dropped the potato in the sink and walked out.

The next evening, Laura and Stiles were going through a huge book Laura had “found” in the family library and shared with Stiles. He was enthusiastically telling her about the best habitat for kappa when she asked about magic. “What about witches?” she asked.

“Like wicca or witches? Sure. They exist. Their beliefs are valid. They have power,” Stiles said.

“What about...” Laura bit her lip in a show of reluctance that Derek knew was also her trying not to laugh, “vampires?”

Stiles seesawed his hand. “Yes, I believe they exist but not in the pop culture way. They definitely don’t sparkle.”

Laura made an interested noise so he went on about vampiric type myths existing in many cultures back throughout history.

“As do shapeshifters,” Derek said before he could stop himself.

“Of course, in all cultures, eastern and western,” Stiles agreed. 

“But you don’t believe in werewolves,” Derek said flatly.

“No way,” Stiles said and Derek had to resist facepalming. “Now the media is just using the classic myth as a way to pander to fans. Have you seen the pop culture representations? There are terrible movies, an awful TV show, just for someone to imagine being a furry and humping your leg once a month.”

Laura had to turn away but Derek was sure it was to hide her humor as Stiles went on. “And that movie where they just take off their shirts and ride motorcycles? The whole alpha-beta-omega fandom subset? There is no way that werewolves exist.”

Derek opened his mouth but he saw Laura shake her head. He shut it and walked out.

The next Sunday afternoon Stiles was off, at Laura’s prodding, they all took a picnic down to the pond. Derek had taken Stiles there once and flatly told him where the only deep spots were and how they used to swim there when the water warmed. Then he’d pushed Stiles in. 

Wolf had led Stiles there too, knowing that if he didn’t do it safely, Stiles would find it and do it dangerously. 

Now they all swam and ate and enjoyed the hot sun. Derek was relaxing when Laura brought up Luna Lovegood and how she was going to call Stiles that since he probably believed in crumple-horned snorkacks. He laughed and said he would if J.K. Rowling had described them better.

Derek was never really sure what snide thing he said that set Stiles off, and he couldn’t remember exactly what Stiles said back. All he knew was that it somehow ended up in a shouting match between them that made Stiles look hurt and Derek getting angrier.

“I’m just saying that you’ll literally believe in any ridiculous creation ever imagined,” Derek yelled, “but you won’t say that werewolves exist!”

“No! Everyone has to draw a line somewhere and this, this,” Stiles took his heel through the soft ground, “is my line that I will not cross. This is my point of no return. If I begin to believe in werewolves then they'll lock me up.”

“You’re stupid,” Derek informed him.

“You see, Derek, there’s always been evidence of things that are only seen and believed by certain people. Aliens, dragons, vampires, werewolves,” Stiles ticked off his fingers. “I totally believe in vampires. I've met some extremely convincing alien encounterists. But werewolves, I mean, come on? Who’d want to turn into a big, smelly, flea-ridden dog once a month and go out to eat raw rabbits and hump legs? It’s clearly just made up by creepy men trying to perv on the romantic notions of women to convince them to accept their uncultured, boorish bad behavior.”

Derek stared at him. “You're so full of bullshit I honestly don’t know how _you_ even exist.”

“Shut up, Derek,” Laura getting angry now. “That was really rude. Apologize.”

“No, it’s okay. I got it,” Stiles was gathering his towel and shirt and cramming his feet back into his shoes.

“Stiles, wait, please,” Laura tried.

“No, I need to go.”

Laura glared at Derek who looked pointedly away. “Well, we’ll go back to the house with you,” she said.

“No, I forgot, I, uh, promised Scott I’d call today. I’m going to drive into town and call.”

“That makes no sense,” Laura said to his back as he stalked away. “You’re an idiot,” she swatted Derek as he watched Stiles go.

“I know,” he said morosely as his anger drained away so she swatted him again. “He just makes me so… I don’t know what to… He’s trying to kill me.”

“No, Der, that’s all you. But you better find a way to fix things with him or he’ll leave. And then you’ll be truly sorry.”

Derek would never admit she was right. 

That evening, Derek heard the old Jeep knocking its way back toward the house long before he saw it. He dropped the tea towel and took off, so the wolf was standing in the road far enough from the house that Stiles could stop.

“Hey, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be this close to the house.” Stiles was out of the Jeep immediately.

Derek got within reach then spun away out of Stiles’ grasp. He did this a few times, tongue lolling out of his mouth at the impromptu game of tag. Stiles huffed but he chased him around the Jeep several times until he laughed. 

“What are we doing?” Stiles finally slumped against the side of the Jeep and rubbed his face. 

Derek trotted up and bumped his hip then cold-nosed him right on the neck. Stiles yelped but his hand came up and ruffled his ears. Stiles sat there on the gravel drive, leaning back against the Jeep tire, and petted Derek.

“I just don’t know what to do. He hates me,” Stiles confided quietly. “I know he doesn’t want me here. But I really love it. It’s all great. Except Laura’s cooking. She swore she didn’t do anything weird to that soup but I was so sick that night.”

Derek grumbled in sympathy and Stiles smiled sadly at him. “I really want to stay. And I want Derek to like me. But I don’t know how to do it.” Stiles let Derek’s big head lay against his shoulder. Derek pulled back and licked his cheek, knowing the salty taste wasn’t only from sweat.

The next day, Stiles didn’t come back from the park.

Derek waited in the kitchen with a special dinner fully prepared. He’d finally agreed to Laura’s increasing demands that they tell Stiles the truth. His mother had called him and lectured for nearly an hour, telling him to get his head out of his butt and do the right thing.

Only he watched the clock as two hours ticked by, and he began to worry. Was Stiles broken down somewhere between the park and the house? Was he looking for another place to live? Had Stiles left town without even telling him? 

Laura tried Stiles’ phone even though Derek told her it would look like they were checking up on him. “That’s exactly what we’re doing,” she snapped, but it went right to voice mail. She finally caught on to his worry and tried calling the ranger station at the park. It was busy. Continuously. 

“I’m running over there,” Derek said, stripping off his shirt in preparation to his shift.

“No, we’ll drive there.” Laura jangled the keys and he had to admit it made more sense to take the car.

His stomach fell when they pulled into the parking lot and saw it filled with all kinds of emergency vehicles. Derek was out the door before the car was stopped, Laura yelling at him to wait a damn minute.

Derek went right to one of the full-time park rangers that he recognized. “There’s two kids that are missing from a campsite,” the man told him, hand wiping over his face. “We’ve had all our volunteers are out searching, but we haven’t been able to reach Stilinski on the radio for a couple hours.”

Derek looked to Laura who bit her lip and nodded. She stayed with the distraught ranger while Derek strode off back to the car. He stripped down behind it, tossing his clothes on the seat. Then he changed and he ran.

He knew he could find Stiles even though his scent seemed to be all over the ranger station and beyond. Stiles filled all his senses in ways he’d never experienced as a wolf or a human before. Derek just gave in to his instincts and ran.

He found the tents where the children’s family had stayed. Stiles had been there and taken off northwest. Derek followed his trail, all but quivering as he traced everywhere Stiles had hiked until he came to a spot where it joined with the smell of the kids on the bank of a tributary to the river.

But Derek had to continue much further than he’d thought, and their scents circled confusedly a few times, far off the faint path. Just when he began to worry more, he heard crying and burst through the underbrush a few feet away from the three.

The two little girls screamed and Stiles pushed them behind where he stood with bear spray at the ready.

“Wolf?” he said and pulled up before he sprayed. “Is that you, boy?”

Derek chuffed and hurried over to Stiles, snuffling all over him, looking for injuries. The children screamed again and cried harder. 

Stiles tried to push Derek’s wet nose away while he turned to explain, “Hey, it’s okay! He’s my friend!”

“He’s gonna eat us!” the bigger girl cried as she clung to the smaller one.

“No, no, silly, he’s not going to eat anyone. He’s my friend. Wolf, come on buddy, don’t sniff me there. Wolf, sit!”

Derek sat.

Stiles stared at him. Derek stared back, just as shocked as he was. 

“Good boy,” Stiles said weakly then turned to the girls with another huge smile. “See, Wolf is my friend.”

The smaller girl squirmed out of her sister’s hold and held out a hand to Derek. He looked back up at Stiles who froze. Then Derek slowly and gently pressed his nose to her hand and dared a quick, delicate lick. She giggled. And Stiles breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“Well, now that we’re all friends, we better get back to the ranger station,” Stiles said brightly. “It looks like it’s going to rain. And it’s a long walk back.”

Derek glanced up at the sky, realizing for the first time that it did smell like rain, more than rain, probably a heavy thunderstorm. It wouldn’t be good for Stiles and the kids to be out in that.

Then he noticed Stiles was favoring his left ankle, and he sniffed it in worry. No blood, but it was warm, probably inflamed, maybe sprained? Stiles petted his ears and rubbed his head. “I’m okay, buddy, but we got a little turned around after I slid down those rocks and busted my radio.” Stiles knelt down and held Derek’s head gently. “I swear you’re almost human at times, Wolf. If there’s any way you could understand me or get us out of here, now would be the time.”

Derek was ready to change back to help him, nudity and shock be damned. Instead, Stiles picked up the smaller of the two girls and held the hand of the older one. Derek went over to her and put his head gently against her. She petted him eagerly and he nudged her then brushed his entire body against her while she twined her hand in his fur.

“Mr. Stiles, doggy is big!”

“Yes, he is,” Stiles jiggled her hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Mr. Stiles, can’t go.” She started to sob and sat down in the leaves. 

“I know you’re tired, sweetie, but I can’t carry you both,” Stiles said, sounding as exhausted as she and as if he’d said it before.

Derek lay down and nudged the child again, looking up at her with big, soft eyes. She wiped her eyes and fell face-first on his back, sobbing some more. Derek carefully stood up.

“No, you can’t ride him, that’ll hurt his spine,” Stiles said and reached out, but Derek backed up slowly and jostled a bit until the girl was actually riding him like a pony. She realized it just as Stiles did, but while he looked horrified, her tears stopped and she smiled.

“Ride!” she said and patted Derek’s head roughly.

Derek started forward slowly, but the girl sounded like she was having fun and even bounced up and down a bit when he walked faster. Stiles hurried after them.

“Wolf, come on, please stop.” Derek ignored him as he tried to keep a straight line back in the direction of the ranger station even while thunder started booming in the distance. It was tough going with the child on his back and Stiles limping along behind burdened with the other child.

Then Derek finally heard people talking in the distance and smelled a group that he realized were a search party. He crashed through more undergrowth on the top of a small rise, knowing that the searchers were on a path that would lead them right there in a few minutes.

He laid down until Stiles caught up to him. “Wolf, what is it? Where—”

Even Stiles’ human ears finally caught something, and he shouted. There was a yell back, then Stiles threw back his head and roared at the top of his lungs.

“Oh my god, that’s the search crew,” he said excitedly. “Wolf, you did it! Girls, we’ll stay right here until they catch up, okay?”

The girl Stiles was holding had been drowsing until he yelled, now she woke up with a cry. The girl on Derek’s back was petting him until he rolled a little and dislodged her gently. She went to cling to Stiles who was answering another shout from the search party. 

Derek disappeared into the undergrowth before Stiles could say another word.

He slipped into the car Laura had taken down the road from the ranger station right after the rain started. “They okay?” she asked as he pulled on his shorts.

“All three are fine,” he said gruffly.

“Derek.”

“I know. I have to tell him.”

Laura sighed. “Not just about the werewolf thing. You have to tell him how you feel. He cares about you, you know.”

“I care about him too,” he admitted in a small voice.

Laura snorted. “Any fool can see that. Except maybe him because you two are perfectly suited for each other.”

“Ha,” Derek managed to be sarcastic just as all his adrenaline began to crash and he started to shake a little.

“Let’s get home,” Laura said. “You have to get cleaned up yourself before you can take care of him.”

But when a ranger dropped him off that night, Stiles seemed in better shape than Derek. He was hailed wide and far as a hero for finding and saving the children. The story made regional and national news. The little girl’s talk about “the woof” was ignored as an over-action imagination from the stress. 

Stiles was given the rest of the week off after he made it clear that he didn’t want to talk to any of the reporters.

Derek got up early the next morning to make all his favorites for breakfast, but Laura followed soon after.

“We are showing him today,” she said firmly. The fear clenched in Derek’s gut. “We’ll start off with the big guy and see how it goes,” she continued. “And maybe, just maybe, everything will be great, and you can finally tell him yourself.”

“Now is not the right time.”

“Now’s not the right time for what?” Stiles looked paler and thinner and somehow more grown up than the day before. 

“Now is the right time to go for a hike,” Laura said.

Stiles paled further. “I don’t think it is. My ankle—”

“You said the EMTs said it was only strained. We don’t have to go far,” Laura was unbending. “We are all going. No excuses. There’s something we need to show you.”

Stiles sighed and didn’t show his customary enthusiasm for Derek’s breakfast. Derek couldn’t eat either.

They glumly followed Laura as soon as they put on their boots, straggling behind her like reluctant ducklings. Derek realized Laura was heading directly for the place where Stiles and his friends had camped the fall before. He didn’t think Stiles recognized it, especially now that the trees were full. Stiles just looked preoccupied.

Once they got to the high ground above the creek, Laura stopped and cleared her throat. “Stiles, there’s something we need to tell you. About our family. Our mom is a conservationist of a sort.”

When Stiles just looked at her in polite silence, Laura went on, “Mom and our family have made the preserve into a safe place and tried to gather in those who are threatened elsewhere. The word has gone out that all are welcome here and protected.”

She stopped and Stiles eventually realized she was waiting for his reaction. He rubbed at the back of his head and said, “So your mom is a hippie welcome committee?”

Laura smiled a little. “Something similar. Wait here.” She gestured to Derek.

Derek went on ahead and changed into his wolf. Then he went to the secluded cave to greet the Sasquatch. Derek had been acquainted with him and his extended family since he was young, so the Sasquatch followed him back cheerfully toward Laura and Stiles. They came out of woods behind the two. 

Derek had just changed back and reached for his pack when Stiles whirled at some noise. His big eyes grew larger, a hand flew to his chest. 

“Oh my God. Oh. My God. Oh. My. God. That’s… that’s...” His eyes rolled back and he fainted, Laura moving quickly to catch his head.

Derek had pulled his shorts on and was cradling Stiles’ head when his eyes shot open. It gave Derek the creeps because Stiles didn’t even blink for a few long seconds, just stared up at the leaves and sky beyond. But it seemed like his mind was whirling as he worked to figure out what was going on.

“I did not faint,” Stiles finally said.

Derek snorted. “You swooned.”

“I did not swoon.”

“You swooned like a Victorian lady in a bad romance novel.”

“They swooned because their corsets were too tight,” Stiles grumped. “I passed out because I was having a hallucination about. About...”

His voice trailed off when he saw the Sasquatch standing beside Laura. He croaked out, “Is that really? Or did you make someone dress up in a fursuit?”

“It’s real,” Derek agreed and helped Stiles as he sat up.

“I can’t believe it really is,” Stiles clutched at Derek as his eyes swam with tears. “They really do exist. It’s amazing.”

“He. He’s amazing,” Derek corrected.

“He.” Stiles just stared as the Sasquatch stared back shyly. Then he grabbed at Derek, still never taking his eyes off the Bigfoot. “You knew.”

“We knew,” Derek said as Laura added, “We had to tell you.”

Stiles just held Derek tighter. “I can’t believe it.”

Laura smiled and stepped over to offer him a hand up. “Why don’t you get up and spend some time with real-life Sasquatch? I think he likes you.”

Stiles took her hand and from the look on his face, ascended to the stars. Derek stood and watched Stiles as he spent almost an hour with the Bigfoot, communicating with some help from Laura.

When she finally told the Sasquatch to go home and pointed Stiles in the other direction, Derek was sure Stiles was practically skipping in glee. Halfway back to the house, though, he stopped and turned slowly to Laura.

“Wait. If Bigfoot is real, then what else is real? Is he the only cryptid that’s really alive? Or are there others?”

“There are,” Laura admitted. Stiles grabbed her arm and all but jumped up and down.

“You know about them? You gotta tell me! I can’t even!”

“There’s one more thing you need to see right now,” Laura said as they approached the lawn. “Derek?”

Derek stopped and sighed as Stiles turned to him, his big damned eyes fascinated and trusting.

“Werewolves do exist,” Derek said in the driest monotone he could manage.

Stiles rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to argue, and Derek transformed. Right there. Right in front of him.

Stiles gaped. Derek sat down.

“Oh my god. There is no way— No way.” Stiles just stood and stared, and Derek waited much more patiently than he felt.

“The most ridiculous thing about this is that you’re still wearing basketball shorts. You are a fucking wolf wearing fucking shorts. You are fucking ridiculous,” Stiles’ tone was conversational, but Derek could smell the increase in sweat and anxiety as well as the rapid spike in his heart rate that wasn’t anything like he’d felt when he’d seen the Sasquatch.

Laura realized it immediately too and lay her hand on his arm to try to calm him. “Stiles, honey—” 

Stiles all but shrieked, “You’re Wolf?! Oh my god, you spied on us!” He shook a quaking finger at Derek. “You spent all that time with me when we came to camp just to spy on us and keep us away from Bigfoot.”

“We tried to tell you—” Laura said but was cut off by another shout. 

“You’ve been doing it all summer, you son of a bitch! Ha, you literally ARE a son of a bitch!” Stiles’ chest was heaving as he stood before Derek and raged. “You pretended to be my friend, I thought you _were_ my friend, but instead, what were you doing? Leading me off the trail? Keeping me away from all the endangered creatures? Being the asshole I always knew you were?”

Stiles’ voice rose so much that Derek let out a little whine before he could help himself. His instincts were telling him to get on his belly right there and grovel, but he held himself still. But he couldn’t help flinching when Stiles shook his fist under his nose.

“Can you even understand what I’m saying? Have you been listening to me go on and on and then come home and laugh about it when you’re human?”

Derek couldn't hold it in anymore. He went to his belly and whined again. Laura moved to stand between the two and said, “Stiles, I understand you’re angry. And you have some reason to be. Yes, Derek can understand exactly what you’re saying, but he can’t refute you or explain anything in this form. And there’s a lot that you two need to talk about and work out.”

“I have nothing else to say to him,” Stiles turned his back on Derek, and Derek couldn’t take it anymore. He crept forward, tail between his legs, and licked at Stiles’ clenched hand. Stiles jerked away but looked down at him. Derek breathed out a little whine of distress, almost inaudible to humans.

“Dammit, don’t look at me with those stupid big puppy dog eyes,” Stiles said, and Derek realized he was trying not to cry. Derek took advantage and nudged him like he always did as Wolf when he wanted Stiles to move. Then he wrapped as much of his big body as he could around Stiles. 

“Shit, how can I stay mad at you?” Stiles dropped to his knees and buried his face in Derek’s fur. Derek tried to curl closer. “How can you be so fucking amazing as Wolf and yet such a piece of shit as a human?”

Laura suddenly laughed behind them. “You’d be surprised. He’s always been a little shit.”

Stiles lifted his wet face from Derek’s neck and glared at her. “I’m mad at you too. You kept all of this from me and helped him lie.”

“Lies of omission,” she admitted glibly. “But Derek was the one who was afraid to tell you. I’ve been pushing for it all summer. He was scared that when you found out werewolves existed, you’d think he was one of those creepy pervs you talked about. And believe me, he’s as far from creepy perv as you can get. He’s actually really repressed.”

Derek let out a long, low growl that Laura merely laughed off. “You see, Stiles, my brother has always been better around animals than people, and he’s better at expressing himself as a wolf than a human. So whatever feelings he showed for you as Wolf were legit. His whole front as the human equivalent of Grumpy Cat is just because he was worried that you were going to hunt Bigfoot or hurt one of our creatures. At first, that was his worry,” she held up a calming hand to Stiles who was about to interrupt.

“And then when you moved here, and we began to feel you out to see how you’d react to learning the truth. You were so adamant about believing in everything out there...except werewolves. It really upset Derek because if you didn’t believe in us, how would you feel about finding out about us? What would you do? Would you hate us?”

Derek let out a little yip when Stiles’ hands clutched tighter at his fur. Laura smiled sadly. “Would you think that we were horrific creatures and want to hunt us? It’s been done before. There was a lot to worry about, and the more we got to know you, the more we cared about you...especially Derek did. That’s why he’s been acting this way. Guess he figured if he could only have your friendship as Wolf, then he’d be willing to take it. Right, Der?”

She and Stiles both looked at Derek who turned his head to stare at the house, away from them. Laura snorted. “Told you he can’t deal with emotions.”

“I’m so— it’s so much to take in,” Stiles said in a quiet voice. He let go of his death-grip on Derek’s fur and carded his fingers through it in apology. Derek whuffed gently at him.

“Why don’t we go in the house for a drink, Stiles? And leave Derek to decide what he wants to do.”

Stiles ruffled his fur and whispered, “I have feelings for you too. Furry you and regular you. I’m still trying to sort them out.”

Derek jerked his head to look at him then and Stiles smiled. He petted Derek’s head gently and then got up. “I think I need a drink, Laura. A really big one.”

Derek was grateful to his sister for once for giving him some time to get himself together. He’d been through so much in 24 hours, and he didn’t want Stiles to see him go through the change again. After he’d changed and found a shirt, he finally headed into the house.

“What else is out there?” Stiles was asking as Laura handed him a glass of something that made Derek’s nose burn from across the room.

Derek sat down beside Laura as she launched into an explanation about their mother making the preserve a sanctuary, wanting to keep safe the creatures who were being hunted and driven to extinction.

Stiles started greedily naming them and Laura and Derek answered as best they could until Stiles finished off his drink with a shiver. “It’s just a lot to accept,” he said and scrubbed at his face with his hand. “I mean, I’ve always believed these things exist, but to find out—without a shadow of a doubt—that they’re right here...I’m speechless.”

“Hardly,” Derek griped and Laura elbowed him.

“Your belief and enthusiasm were the reasons why Mother thought it would be wise to bring you into our secret,” Laura said to Stiles. 

“Secret,” Stiles repeated. “Yeah, that means, oh wow, I can’t tell anybody about this, can I?”

Laura shook her head sadly. “You can understand now why it’s so important that we keep all of this a secret. And you know why Derek and I were so concerned when you guys camped right in Sasquatch’s territory. If this were to come out, we’d be overrun by strangers, hunters wanting to hurt our friends, or unscrupulous pseudo-scientists demanding to research them. Meanwhile, these creatures deserve to have a safe place to just live and let live.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Stiles said and rubbed at his eyes. “I completely agree, one hundred percent. It just sucks that I can’t tell Scott. He would freak the fuck out.”

“He probably wouldn't swoon,” Derek said sotto voce.

Stiles glared. “I didn’t swoon. I just never expected to see you standing naked right beside the being I’ve waited my whole entire life to see.”

Laura nudged Derek again. “I think he’s saying that he’d rather see Bigfoot than see you naked. That’s some tough competition, bro.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Stiles blustered, but Laura laughed delightedly.

“You guys make it too easy. Stiles, now that you know our family’s secret, it means that we trust you with all our lives, not to sound too melodramatic or anything. But Mother is thinking that maybe you could be useful to us as well.” 

Laura took a moment for a drink, but Derek could hear how her heart raced as she said, “You see, there’s a lot of work that needs done here at the preserve, and we’ve talked about doing even more. We’d love to be able to travel around the world and help save even more creatures that we just haven’t had time to find or communicate with. In order to do all that, we could really use some more knowledgeable helpers here. Or any, really.”

“Are you… are you offering me a job?” Stiles’ eyes were huge.

“After graduation, if you want. Yes,” Laura said.

Stiles’s eyes drifted from her to Derek. “How do you feel about all this?”

Derek cleared his throat. “I’ve learned that I was wrong about you,” he said stiffly. “When you came here with your friends, I thought you were all stupid adventure-seekers who were going to get drunk on film and make a mockery out of everything that’s important to us. But you proved me wrong. Over and over. And seeing how hard you’re working this summer, and how passionate you are, I admire it.”

Stiles looked like he was still waiting for the BUT. So Derek said, “I’m glad Mother offered you a position here, and if you accept it, I’ll do whatever I can to make you feel welcome. Because you are. Welcome here.”

“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered to himself. “Holy shit,” he repeated a little louder. “This is a lot to think about.”

“You don’t have to make a decision now,” Laura assured him. “You have plenty of time before you graduate.”

Stiles stared at them some more before he blurted, “I promise, no I swear, I’ll never tell a soul about this. I would never forgive myself if anyone or any of these creatures was ever hurt because of me. I swear this secret stays between us.”

“Thank you,” Laura said solemnly. “We trust you. And now, I think I’ll go start some early dinner. All this talking and emoting made me famished.”

“You can’t cook,” Derek reminded her.

She laughed from the kitchen doorway. “I can make a killer grilled cheese sandwich,” her cackles floated back through the swinging door.

Stiles looked at Derek in worry. “When she says killer, I fear that she means they will actually _kill_ the eater.”

“It’s very possible,” Derek agreed, “and I’ll go make us something safely edible in a minute. But first I wanted to say...I’m sorry.” The words didn’t stick in Derek’s throat as much as he thought they would, so he said them again. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you and acted around you this summer. It was just so much, trying to hide things and worrying what your reaction would be. Especially when you were so adamant against werewolves.”

“Uh, yeah, about that.” Stiles played with the empty glass until Derek wanted to rip it out of his hands. “You see, I used to have a major thing about werewolves. Like, well, Scott used to call it an obsession. And I was convinced that they were real.”

“But all that stuff you argued against?”

“It was more like being disappointed. That they weren’t real.” Stiles still wouldn’t look up at Derek, so Derek allowed himself to smile and it grew into a grin. He got up and moved around the coffee table to stand beside Stiles’ chair.

“How do you feel now, that you know we’re very real?”

Stiles jumped when he realized Derek was so close, and he stumbled to his feet. But he bumped into the coffee table and lost his balance, so Derek steadied him with one big hand around his upper arm. 

“It’s too much to take in,” Stiles all but squeaked. “I mean, I already had a raging crush on you, and now I find out that you’re literally my dream man. Wolf. Man-wolf. Werewolf. Oh my god, just shut me up now.”

“How should I do that?” Derek heard his voice drop lower and he moved unconsciously even closer to Stiles. Stiles who was licking his lips and darting glances at Derek’s mouth.

“I...I dunno.”

Derek leaned in, and Stiles’ eyes fluttered shut as Derek kissed him, slowly and softly, teasing his lips which Stiles eagerly opened. But Derek didn’t take the kiss any further, just felt the warmth of Stiles’ lips and the pressure he happily returned. When he broke the kiss, Derek stayed close, right in Stiles’ face, leaning their foreheads together and breathing him in.

“I liked our first kiss better, I think,” Stiles said dreamily. “Your tongue was really long. And wet.”

Derek pulled back to take offense when he saw that Stiles was smirking broadly. “You said that werewolves were creepy, but you’re really the perv here,” Derek told him.

“And proud of it,” Stiles ran his hands around Derek’s waist and downward to squeeze his butt. “You think we have any more time alone before your sister kills us both with raging food poisoning?”

“No, I think I’d better go rescue the kitchen before she burns down the house.” But Derek didn’t try to break free from Stiles’ hold yet. “Then after dinner, we can go for a walk and find somewhere more private. To continue this conversation.”

“Sounds good,” Stiles said then leaned over to smack a kiss to Derek’s lips. “I’m looking forward to our walkies even more, now.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Derek was too.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm often to be found lurking around [my mess of a Tumblr](http://zephfair.tumblr.com) if you want to come over and say hi!


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